


Lady Alayne

by vivilove



Series: Jonsa Drabblefest Drabbles [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jonsa Drabble Fest, King Jon visits the Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: King Jon visits the Vale and is bewitched by Littlefinger's beautiful bastard daughter.





	Lady Alayne

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of the Jon x Sansa Drabble Fest on Tumblr
> 
> Prompt-Alayne

 

“Welcome to the Eyrie, Your Grace,” the maiden said with a graceful curtsey.

Jon glanced…and then glanced again. They’d said Lord Baelish’s bastard daughter was beautiful. They’d not lied.  But there was something about her blue eyes that plucked at his heart and stirred a memory.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, bowing in return and hoping for another look at her face. But she demurely turned away leaving him oddly frustrated and wanting more.

 

* * *

 

 

Day by day, his obsession with this mysterious girl grew. A lady, a bastard, a beauty. Kind hearted and quick-witted from all he had learned.

  
Lady Alayne…she bewitched him with her shy smiles before always looking swiftly away. What other reason could explain his desire to pursue her thusly?

“Lady Alayne,” Jon said, stepping in front of the girl to forbid her escape yet again. Whenever Jon got near, she fled like a bird that feared being caged. It only stoked his desire for her. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Your name…it’s pretty.”

He was not remotely practiced at wooing young ladies but he thought his words might please her. She smirked at him before the blank mask of courtesy descended once more.

_She is likely used to receiving practiced words and even poetry from men._

“Thank you, Your Grace. You are too kind,” she said as she attempted to slip away.

Jon captured her hand, sweeping it to his mouth for a kiss. Her eyes widened. He heard the hitch in her breath as he pressed his lips to her soft skin. Why had he never attempted such a thing with a girl before?

_Perhaps because no girl has ever intrigued me so._

She leaned towards him, her blue eyes darker. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Perhaps this attraction was not one-sided.

“Will there be dancing tonight at the feast, my lady?”

“I suspect so, Your Grace.”

“And will you dance with me?”

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “Kings do not dance with bastards…and I do not care for dancing.”

“But, this king _is_ a bastard, sweet one…and I think you lie.”

She scowled at him and plucked her hand away. “I would think Lord Stark had taught you better manners than to call a lady a liar, Jon Snow,” she hissed. She lifted her skirts and ran away.

But Jon did not chase her. He could smell the lemony fragrance from where he’d held her hand. He could see the hard ice of the North flash in those blue eyes and recognized the haughty tone he’d not heard in years.

“Sansa,” he whispered in wonder.

 


End file.
